


Coming Of Age

by adeclanfan



Series: The Midsummer Chronicles [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Elvish Sex Toys, First Time, M/M, Mild S&M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant - The Hobbit (PJ Movies), Rating: M, Rating: NC17, Revised Version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeclanfan/pseuds/adeclanfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Aragorn turns twenty-five and is told the truth about his heritage and his potential future by Lord Elrond. His name isn't the only thing coming of age in Rivendell changes. It changes everything. Legolas is sympathetic and more than willing to help his young friend find his feet in this strange new world. </p><p>Some chapters are pure Elf smut. There just isn't enough good Elf smut on the internet. I hope this will quailfy. Comments are really appreciated because this is my first time with the LOTR/Hobbit elf muses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Truth That Doesn't Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn has learned the truth of his heritage.

The book sat open on his lap, but Aragorn's heart wasn't in it. The pretense of reading was an excuse to be in the great, ancient library of Rivendell and nothing more. It wasn't as if he hadn't memorized the verses in this particular book years ago, as it had always been one of his favorites. There was a strange sort of comfort in the crisp pages filled with neat, careful script. 

It had taken his mother many years to learn the Elvish languages, but being so young when they'd come to live here, Aragorn soaked up their knowledge with an ease which delighted everyone. His love of history pleased the librarian and scribes so much he practically had free run of the place since he was old enough to, carefully, hold the ancient books and scrolls. 

"Is something troubling you, Estel?" 

The question came from the alcoves behind him, but it didn't surprise Aragorn that even at a distance Lord Elrond could sense he had a heavy heart. In many ways, Elrond took it upon himself to be the surrogate father Aragorn needed. Guiding and training a mortal boy was burden he could easily have passed to one of his sons, or just about any other Elda in Rivendell, but Elrond welcomed him in and treated him like his own child. For this, and the many other ways Elrond and his family cared for Aragorn over the last twenty years, Estel felt nothing but love and the deepest respect and admiration for their ancient, battle scarred Lord.

His use of Aragorn's Elvish name, a name Elrond himself chose because it translated to 'hope', was like pouring salt in an open wound. A handful of days ago, Estel's twenty-fifth naming day had turned the quiet, well ordered world he lived in completely on its head. His true name was Aragorn, but he still constantly needed to remind himself. It didn't feel right, yet, like wearing clothing that chafed. Everything he believed about himself had proven to be puffs of smoke that dissipated into nothing. 

Elrond informed Aragorn he was no ordinary Man, he was a direct descendant of the great Kings of Gondor, and the very last of the line descended from his own twin brother, Elros, who chose to live the life of a mortal as Elrond chose to be an Elda. The blood of the Men Kings Aragorn loved to read about flowed in his own veins. And, more importantly, he wasn't just a guest of the Lord of Rivendell, a city which offered sanctuary to Men and Eldar alike. He was being hidden, and for very good reasons. The revelations made Estel feel special, but at the same time, it bothered him to know his existence was a threat to those who didn't want Gondor to ever crown another King.

At this present moment, it was all too much and Aragorn couldn't shake the cold lump of fear residing in his guts, but it wouldn't do at all for his mentor and protector to know how badly he was taking the news. 

"Midsummer festival is coming," Aragorn offered up what he hoped would be seen as a passable excuse for his mood. 

There was a long silence and then the older man appeared from around a corner, movements utterly silent in his soft soled shoes. He studied Aragorn's face while Aragorn held himself as rigid as a slab of granite. He was far too old, now, to squirm under that searching gaze. 

It soon became clear Elrond hadn't bought his answer, "The festival is the same as it has always been."

"I'm different." Aragorn felt the traitorous words slip, used to candor with this man, then cursed inwardly at how much he laid bare with just those few words. "I'm Aragorn son of Arathorn," he sighed, as if the changing of his name should explain everything. 

Dark brows drew together, as they tended to do when his mentor was worried, "And why would it make a difference? You've lived your whole life here, whatever name you were called." 

"I can't hide here forever." The thought of leaving and striking out on his own made Aragorn feel sick.

While it was difficult to surprise an ancient Elda, Aragorn had managed it with his last statement. 

Elrond's frown deepened to real concern, and he responded, "No, of course you can't, and you won't. That doesn't mean you need to pack your things and saddle your horse today. You merely reached your human majority, twenty and five is considered a babe to the Eldar. Because of your ancient bloodline, you will have a lifespan twice that of a normal Man. There is still much for you to learn here with us, if you so desire. Patience being a skill which springs to mind." The kind smile that curved his lips took away any possible sting the chastising words might have carried. 

"If I live in Imladris for a hundred years, I shall never achieve the level of patience of one of your kind, my Lord," Aragorn offered in his defense, only half playfully jesting.

Elrond pulled over an empty chair and sat himself across from Aragorn, close enough so their knees brushed. The Eldar found great solace in physical contact, and most liked to be touching if they could manage it when speaking of difficult matters. "Your exposure to our ways will help you someday as you venture out into in the wider world, Estel. It will take time for you to grow accustomed to a faster pace in the cities of Men. Dwarvish cities are worse for being loud and crowded, and I am loathe to speak of the smell. Imladris will be a refuge of peace and rest for you, then."

"You think I'll see a real Dwarf city?" 

"I have no doubt you will."

Lord Elrond was gifted with the ability to see future events. Sometimes, Aragorn wondered what such a gift must be like. Only one other among the Eldar he knew even had that ability, Lady Galadriel in Lothlorien, mother of Elrond's wife, Celebrian. Aragorn's meetings with her always left him feeling uneasy, like she was reaching into his very soul and searching for something or measuring him in some way, so he'd started avoiding her if he could manage it. 

Elrond continued, "Few Dwarvish cities are still in existence. Those which remain are well worth seeing. Erebor, I am sure you have heard mentioned, is one of the nearest to us here in Rivendell. The Dragon, Smaug, occupied it for decades, and it was only recently liberated at a very high cost of life to Dwarves, Men and Eldar." He took the forgotten poetry book from Aragorn's lap and put it on the table behind him. "If I failed to mention this before, Estel, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you choose. You may come and go as you see fit. You will always have a home here; No matter how long you have been away. Even if I am long gone on to the Undying Lands, this is and will always remain, your home, be you Aragorn son of Arathorn, Estel, or any other name you choose to take for yourself."

When he was able to speak past the lump in his throat, Aragorn said simply, "Thank you." Those were the words he'd needed, desperately, to hear this week. Elrond was very good at knowing what someone needed him to say. There were rumors whispered behind his back that one of his gifts was actually reading minds. 

As it usually was with their conversations, Elrond circled back around in his thoughts and attacked Aragorn's mood from another direction, not simply letting it go. "So, as you said, the Midsummer festival approaches and you are free to participate in all the... activities." Never one to shy away from a topic Aragorn found uncomfortable, Elrond continued, "You've grown into an attractive Man, and you're getting noticed in new ways. It won't be long before invitations begin coming your way." 

Aragorn felt a burning flush color his face in his embarrassment. He hadn't been imagining the lustful looks people had been casting his way. And the number of Elves milling around on the training grounds in recent days had been unusual. Having an audience while he practiced the sword always made Aragorn nervous and clumsy, but now their presence made more sense. He didn't know how to feel about being on display as the Elvish city's only resident Man, young and inexperienced as he was.

His obvious discomfort with their topic was met with a knowing grin, "I'm not going to speak of it more, I know you have younger men to discuss such matters with, except to say I hope you choose wisely when the time comes, be it an Elf or a human. Just bear in mind that Elfkind are more open to sharing casual intimacy than humans."

Aragorn winced. Elrond didn't need to tell him that, Aragorn was well aware of the more interesting traditions Elves followed. He had two functioning eyes to see it for himself. In a city where rooms were open to the sky and an attempt at privacy was usually a sheet of gauzy fabric rippling in the breeze, Aragorn had learned long ago to avert his eyes and walk quickly past when he came upon a couple or group of Elves enjoying the Midsummer celebrations by making love under the stars or wherever their desire took them. 

Sex quickly lost it's shroud of mystery, and one of Elrond's sons had mercifully introduced him to the concept of self-pleasuring, without offering a hand, of course. 

"Do you think Legolas will turn up this year?" The blonde Prince had missed the last three years. It was Aragorn's fault, he'd gotten them into trouble and Legolas had disappeared without saying goodbye. 

Some emotion quickly passed across Elrond's pleasant expression, and then was gone. "I imagine the King has many duties for Prince Legolas in Mirkwood, but if he can arrange to get away, I'm sure he will make an attempt." 

Aragorn didn't bother to hide his disappointment. 

Elrond patted him on the shoulder in a consoling gesture, "The hour grows late. Why don't we go find something to eat?"


	2. Acts Of Atonement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas isn't sure of his welcome in Rivendell this Midsummer. Last time he visited, Elrond threw him out. He deserved it, too.

"WIll you be lurking in the darkness up here for much longer? I will arrange to have refreshments sent up for you, if that is your plan." Elrond smiled at King Thranduil's son as he spoke, but there was a stiffness in it, a formality. 

His casually appearing from a side corridor at the top of the highest level of the terraced gardens didn't catch Legolas off guard, if he'd been trying for that. In fact, Legolas had been expecting Lord Elrond to know exactly when he arrived, and be the one to greet him, and he'd been proven right. 

The Prince lowered his head in respect, "Lord Elrond. I wasn't entirely sure of my welcome at your Midsummer festival." Knowing how the Lord of Rivendell valued honesty, so Legolas spoke plainly, "Last time I attended, you asked me leave."

Elrond crossed his arms, his face stern. "I caught you kissing a reckless young Man who is under my guidance and protection. From the looks of it, kissing was not the only thing which would have occurred, if I'd allowed the two of you to continue. Estel was underage." A muscle in his jaw twitched, a sure sign he was not forgiving the incident without an apology, at the very least. 

When Legolas opened his mouth to offer one, Elrond held up a hand to stop him. "I know you didn't start it. Estel's body was outpacing his good sense that summer. I asked you to go for both your sakes. As pleasurable as it might have been, it wasn't meant to be. He was simply too young. I didn't mean to imply you weren't welcome in Rivendell any longer, only that a cooling off period was needed. Passions tend to run high at Midsummer, and I regret if I dealt harshly with you.'' 

Elrond paused, eyes searching the younger man's face, but Legolas gave no outward sign of his thoughts. At Legolas' impassive stare, Lord of Rivendell looked him over from the top of his head to the tips of his travel worn shoes. "It is good to see you are well, Legolas."

The damage caused by their indiscretion was probably repairable, then, and Legolas gave in and smiled, just a little, but he felt smugly satisified inside. It was clear Elrond wanted him here. It meant he cared, and it was a bit of a surprise just how much the younger Elda wanted the warrior he greatly respected to care for him. "Why do I get the feeling your reaction would be worse if you'd come across me with Arwen in a similar state?"

"When it comes to my only daughter, it is rumored I forgo manners and social niceties and toss unsuitable Elves off the balcony into the river... Is there something between you and Arwen I should be told about?" Elrond asked, amused. 

Legolas grinned, full of mischief now that he was feeling more secure in the Elf Lord's attentions. "Fear not. I count Arwen a friend, but nothing more."

"Good," Elrond said, a little too quickly. 

"My father would be pleased by such a match, though," Legolas confessed. 

Elrond considered that. "And you wouldn't be?"

"I find no reason to hurry to settle down." 

"And you've got a Midsummer festival full of people who will be delighted by your return after such a long and mysterious absence."

Legolas shrugged. Then, he stepped forward until they were nearly chest to chest. "You did deal harshly with me, my Lord, as I know I deserved. I am truly sorry I repaid your hospitality by giving offense. That was never my intent."

Elrond put his hand on Legolas' shoulder in the traditional welcome greeting of their kind, and the last of the weight in Legolas' heart slipped away as he said, "Consider it forgotten, Prince. I am glad you decided to come back."

His own hand went up to Elrond's opposite shoulder, "If we observe the old ways, I should make an offering of atonement, before I join the festivities."

"That isn't necessary."

Legolas leaned in until his mouth was very near Elrond's, enunciating each syllable with a huff of air against his lips, "I say it is."

"Stubborn..." Legolas kissed him, stopping the rest of his words. 

Elrond's calloused hands twined in his hair, partly to caress his face and partly to keep him from pulling back from the kisses. When they parted at last, both men were flushed and panting. Legolas noted with satisfaction that the silver of the other man's eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds, betraying his desire. 

Perfect. 

Legolas wasted no time falling lightly to his knees on the unforgiving stones of the courtyard. Deft fingers made quick work of the fabric of tunic and leggings separating what he wanted, Elrond's growing erection, from his mouth. 

Hands fisted in his hair again as he pleasured Elrond with lips and tongue fthroughly before finally taking his swelling phallus as deep as possible into his throat, working both head and shaft. 

The night Elrond sent him away, he'd had a vision of being on his knees giving pleasure while Elrond struggled to hold back his climax, the look of pure ecstasy on his face forever burned into Legolas' mind. Legolas came out of the vision to find a warm, sticky mess in his bedroll and spent the last three years practicing his oral skills in preparation for an eventual reunion with the Lord of Rivendell. 

Legolas had plans for Estel today, as well, but they wouldn't involve the young Man being in control this time. That much the Prince intended to make certain of. 

"Mercy, Legolas. Where did you learn to do such things with your tongue?" Elrond groaned, the very expression from the vision on his face. "If you finish me here, I cannot give you what you came for. Come back to my rooms with me. We have enough time before dawn for a hot bath before the day begins in earnest. Hot water and a soft mattress always feel best after a long ride."

Elrond tugged Legolas to his feet and steered him down the flights of stone steps to where Elrond, his family, and the other high ranking Eldar kept their living quarters. Through the maze of beautifully decorated corridors, Leoglas' steps never faltered, but there was a nervous energy building in him now.

They entered into a cool, dark sitting room and then turned a corner into a smaller room with a large bathing pool cut into the granite of the hillside. It was spacious enough for at least four men to sit shoulder to shoulder. The water bubbled and steam drifted up from in clouds. 

"You were expecting me."

"Visions are one of my gifts," Elrond replied, simply. "Some seeings are stronger than others." Elrond tugged the dirty, sweat stained travel tunic over Legolas' head before stepping back and efficiently removing his own clothing. 

The Prince hesitated at the water's edge, while Elrond moved past him down the steps and slipped into the water, sinking in up to his shoulders. 

"Get in," Elrond commanded and Legolas obeyed without having to be told twice. The hot mineral water was the most amazing feeling after riding for days and living out of a saddlebag. He may have moaned. The smug look on Elrond's face said he had. 

Silently, the older man set about unbraiding the hair at Legolas' temples, which was an odd thing for someone of Lord Elrond's position to do. His fingers were rough and hot where they happened to brush the skin of cheek and ear. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation if the building need in Legolas' body was any indication. 

A beautifully carved stone jar sat at the edge of the pool filled with a paste of course salt, herbs and oil. The earthy scent reminded Legolas of home, of Mirkwood in the deepest part of the forest. Plants from that area were costly and difficult to obtain. He wondered if they were Lord Elrond's preference, or for his benefit. Taking a sparing amount, he rubbed it into his skin, scrubbing away the days of travel. Once he'd finished with cleansing himself everywhere, he had to admit It felt good to be clean. 

When Elrond spoke, again, it was in a low, serious tone, "You will find Estel much changed, I'm afraid. It was time for me to tell him who he really is." The older man ended the statement with a heavy sigh. 

Legolas frowned at him, "I do not understand."

"His true name is Aragorn and he is the last heir to the throne of Gondor. His father was Arathorn, the second of that name. I chose the name Estel to hide his identity and protect him when his mother brought him to us after Orcs killed his father." 

The younger Elf realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. Clearing his throat, Legolas said, "I didn't think Gondor had any surviving heirs."

"That was by my design. He is taking the news far from well, though he hides his true feelings on the subject when he can." There was so much worry in Elrond's dark expression. "It was the right choice, even now, though it is perhaps too much for Estel, Aragorn, to process. My motives were pure. I wanted to protect him for as long as I could, at very least, until he was capable of defending himself from Orcs and Men."

Legolas was so shocked it took several minutes until he noticed the fingers had finished with unbraiding his hair and moved on to massaging his scalp in very pleasurable little circles. He smiled. "You don't have to do this..." Having an Elf Lord of Elrond's background and power attending him like a servant unnerved Legolas.

"I have my own act of atonement to perform," Elrond said, "Be at ease, Legolas. You aren't the only one who has been looking forward to this day." 

Legolas felt confused. "What could you have to atone for?"

"In hindsight, I reacted more out of jealousy then righteous outrage." 

"You were jealous?" Legolas asked, incredulously. 

"If I had acted on my desire for you sooner, it is doubtful Aragorn would have been in my garden with you, and perhaps I would have." Elrond kissed him, again, and Legolas relaxed into it and let himself be seduced. And that was what it was, seduction. And a very pleasurable one with the older Elda's hands touching Legolas' chest and hips and thighs until he was ready to beg for more. "Please," he gasped between kisses. 

"I think we are clean enough," Elrond smirked at him, "but I leave the choice to you of here or the bed. Decide quickly or likely we will be coupling on the floor somewhere in between." His face said he was considering the cold, stone floor as a possibility now, too. 

For Legolas there was only one answer, "Here. Now!" 

"So be it." Elrond reached for a smaller stone container, near the first, which held thick slippery salve commonly used for self-pleasuring and acts of love requiring lubrication. He scooped a generous amount and applied it first to Leogolas' phallus, and then his own. He gripped them both in a single hand and stroked them against each other, creating a wonderfully pleasurable friction. 

The water didn't wash it away, if anything, it made it more slick. Impatient, the Prince thrust into the hand, earning a small growl of warning. "Faster," he demanded. 

"Patience!" Elrond hissed in his ear, teeth grazing the sensitive lobe. "Prince or not, I'm setting the pace." His grip released from their erections and he turned to get more lubricant. 

Legolas wasted no time replacing the missing hand, picking up the steady sliding strokes himself where the other left off. 

Elrond's hand returned and slipped between his thighs to find the tight opening behind his scrotum. "Oh..." he gasped as a long finger circled and teased him to spread the salve. 

"There is much to be said for an experienced lover, don't you agree?" Elrond tugged him around on the bench and captured his wrists with one hand while guiding his organ between Legolas' buttocks with the other. Legolas wasn't about to disagree. In fact, as the older man pushed into him slowly, Legolas sighed, "Yes." 

In the small part of his mind not currently overloaded with sensations, a thought occurred to him, "Father would hate this. You and I sharing such intimate acts this way." 

"Thranduil is more possessive than a dragon and half as kind. Put him out of your thoughts for a while, beautiful Prince. Legolas. Relax your back muscles and your shoulders... lean back into me. Yes, good. Take me as deeply as you can." 

Legolas tried, but it had been a long time since he'd let someone enter him. It wasn't a matter of wanting it or not, because he did very much, but it burned uncomfortably as he stretched. Elrond responded to his groans by stroking his pale hair away from his sweat slick neck and kissing up to his ear and then down along his shoulder, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine to where their bodies were joined almost completely. 

The rocking of their bodies started so gradually it took Legolas a while to notice the movement at all. The lips and teeth at his neck and the strong arms drawing him tight against the other man's lithe body held his full attention. His head fell back against Elrond's shoulder. "Don't think I'm always this easily seduced," he stated, dreamily. 

Elrond's chest rumbled as he gave a deep laugh. "Is that so? I seem to remember an overexcited Man-child had you on your back in my garden."

Legolas winced. Yeah, he had. And Legolas had liked it, too. "Won't happen again." Except for the one time in Mirkwood last year when he'd been giving extra training to an archer in the palace guard and unexpectedly found his hands tied with a spare bow string and his lips being thoroughly kissed and his phallus expertly swallowed. 

"Of course, it won't," Elrond sounded doubtful. His hands worked Legolas back to full arousal while he thrust up into him. "There is no shame in wanting someone else to lead. It can be refreshing for the spirit... and the body." 

The intensity of the pleasure completely eclipsed any discomfort, now, and Legolas fought against the tide to hold back his climax as long as possible. If the stiffness in his movements now was any indication, Elrond struggled as well. 

"You won't be judged in Rivendell for not wanting the dominant spot in bed sports. Submissive partners are highly sought after."

Legolas snorted. "You aren't planning to mark me, are you?" The feel of teeth along the side of his neck was both worrying and intriguing. "That would be difficult to explain to your sons."

"Elladan and Elrohir are in Caras Galadhon this summer visiting Arwen. I didn't want them pouncing on Estel... Aragorn, on his very birthday. I overheard them discussing it and sent them off with an earful." 

The thought of the Elven twins having sex with Estel just about made Legolas lose his seed. "Saved him for me?" he panted. 

"I did, yes," Elrond confirmed. "You are better suited to teaching a vulnerable boy the skills he needs for Midsummer."

The hand on his cock tugged mercilessly and stars exploded behind his eyelids as Legolas orgasmed, howling loudly. Two more thrusts and Elrond was grunting and filling him with his heat before slowly, carefully withdrawing. 

Spent and exhausted, Legolas rested his forehead on the edge of the bath while he struggled to get his breath. "I don't know whether to thank you or curse you. I fear I'm going to be sore for days."

Elrond lifted an eyebrow, "If you require healing..."

"No. I want to feel it, at least for a while. And it will serve as motivation to keep Estel away from my backside."

Elrond stepped out of the water, laughing. He dried himself with a length of cloth and slipped into a long brown robe. He came back to the edge of the pool and handed Legolas a folded drying cloth, then stood off to the side watching while he exited the bath and dried himself. 

He led Legolas into his bedroom. Two piles of clean clothes were laid out on the bed along with a comb and a long strip of leather that sparkled silver in the light. It wasn't silver, though, it was more costly than gold or jewels because Mithril was rare. Legolas had seen Elves with a strip braided in their hair before here on Midsummer, but never knew what it signified. 

Elrond took the leather and the comb and approached Legolas in the same manner he would approach a skittish horse who might shy away or bolt at any second. "You have seen this, I am sure. A Elf wearing one of these is open to things others might not enjoy... such as being bound to my bed for pleasure." His smile said he hoped Legolas would consider it. "Once you have sucessfully helped my young ward survive the throngs of admirers seeking sex with him, of course."

"I..." Legolas didn't know what he wanted. Did he want everyone here to know he'd be willing to let them ravish him?

Elrond put the comb to his hair, and Legolas didn't flee, but he took the leather and stared at it for a long time. "You can also wind it round your wrist or wear it tied round your neck. It would be less visible and more easily removed."

Legolas opted to wear it like a chain round his neck, mostly hidden by the fine clothes Elrond's servants brought for him. 

"You want me to return later?"

Elrond smirked. "Three years you've been away. You may very well need a secret place to rest where the ladies of Rivendell cannot molest you in your sleep. I offer my protection, but it comes with my price." 

The Lord of Imladris had finished his own dressing, combed his hair, and was peering into a looking glass as he put the gold circlet on his forehead as they talked. "I must take my leave now. I have to go make sure not everyone is off romping in gardens all day. Someone must be cooking food, pouring wine and playing music. I usually end up back here in the early hours of the morning. You are welcome to join me, but know you will be tied to the bed at some point before the sun rises if you do."

They walked out together and parted ways at the hall Legolas knew led to Estel's bedroom. "I must see how things go." He didn't want to commit to returning before he saw Estel, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be tied to anyone's bed. 

"Good. I'll be around if you have need." Elrond patted his shoulder and disappeared.


	3. Alone At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas gets what he came to Imladris for, and some pleasant surprises.

Aragorn jerked upright out of a sound sleep and strong hands on his shoulders shoved him back down on the bed. "Wha... Legolas?" The blonde Elf was in his bed, and naked, was he dreaming? "Are you really here?" He rubbed his tired eyes and blinked owlishly. "What are you doing?" 

Legolas laughed, "I'm finishing what we started three summers ago, before we were interrupted by your overprotective guardian and he threw me out of his city." 

Aragorn's lower body was pinned under him. "N..now?"

"Yes, now. Before others come pounding on the door demanding kisses and a taste of your..." 

The Elf disappeared under his thin summer blanket and Aragorn could feel him crawling backward over his body where Legolas was straddling his hips. "What are you doing?" he yelped, when warm hands touched him intimately.

A muffled voice replied, "Elrond told me you are a Dúnedain." Legolas threw the blanket off and aimed a scowl at him. "I thought it wise to make sure I'm not going to find any other surprises today, but everything seems to be in order down here..." He gestured at Aragorn's chest and groin, "You are definitely male. I truly hope your women aren't this hairy." 

Aragorn winced. Elves didn't have much body hair, if any. It made him self-conscious when they removed their tunics during training in the hottest part of the summer or went swimming. 

"I'm only teasing you, Eh... Aragorn. Your new name is going to take some getting used to. I apologize in advance if I slip."

Despite Legolas' interest in his genitals and body hair, the appearance of his most trusted friend almost brought Aragorn to tears of relief. "I haven't got the feel for it yet, either, so there is nothing to forgive," he whispered, and that earned him a sympathetic smile. 

Legolas shook his head, "I would be furious if my father told me I was a Prince only after I reached my majority. Elrond felt it was best, but that doesn't mean it wasn't cruel." He crawled, as gracefully as a tree cat, back up Aragorn's body until their noses touched and he pinned Aragorn's wrists playfully. "Don't fret, Man. This means you'll probably live as long as a Dwarf. And we'll have many Midsummer festivals in which to fill the hearts of all Elven ladies with longing."

Aragorn stared up into the blue eyes, "Just the ladies?"

Legolas kissed him, at first quickly and softly, and then returning at a better angle. Against his lips, he said, "I'm going to warn you, Aragorn son of Arathorn, I get jealous if my male lovers have too many trysts with other beautiful men. Though I might forgive you the twins, everyone counts the two together as one. They can be fun on a long journey."

Aragorn smirked, "You are very demanding for an Elf wearing Mithril."

Legolas put a hand to his neck and touched the shining leather. "You know what this means?" His cheeks colored, and Aragorn thought it was the first time he had ever seen Legolas blush. 

Aragorn rolled his eyes and smirked, "Elladan explained the Mithril braid to me when I was eighteen. Just because I was forbidden to participate in all the sex didn't mean I didn't see it, and find a few things... requiring explanation."

 

Legolas dragged his long hair aside and untied the leather thong. He laid it gently on the bed beside Aragorn's head. "This doesn't apply to you. I am a Prince of the Mirkwood, and you must earn the right to ravish me. You caught me unprepared in Elrond's garden, but I'm not so easily taken a second time."

"How do I earn it?" Aragorn asked, looking wide awake and ready to play. 

"You start on the bottom." He rolled off the bed and padded to the bookcase near the door. On one of the shelves sat a stone jar, a match to the one in Elrond's bath. With a smirk, he picked it up and checked the contents which were indeed the same. He returned to the bed with his prize and it was Aragorn's turn to blush. "And today you listen to me and do exactly as I tell you. In return, I'm going to do things to you that will be etched into your memory until the end of your days." His expression was gravely serious, but it was mostly for effect. 

Legolas relished the idea of being teacher to Aragorn's virginal student. "And when we're finished here, after we clean up and eat, I'll teach you how to charm an Elvish maiden into your bed." 

Aragorn shot his best friend a stunned look, Legolas gave in and grinned. "I can't have you bumbling your way through your first seduction. It wouldn't do for my reputation as your instructor." Aragorn looked offended, and maybe a little hurt, so Legolas climbed back into the bed and kissed the look off his face. "Don't fret. I'll be a patient teacher, and you will be a well behaved student." 

His hair hung over his shoulder to pool on Aragorn's chest in stark contrast to the course, darker chest hair. "If it will make you feel better, you are my first full blooded Man. I've been with half-Elven or quarter-Elven or less." Legolas didn't mention Elrond or his bath encounter, but inside he may have gloated, just a little. "For some reason, Elves are strongly attracted to Men. I'm going to have a look at you and see if I can solve this mystery. Now, put your hands behind your head, so I can get a better look at you."

Legolas started his inspection with Aragorn's head. Peering into his eyes, running his fingers through Aragorn's fine, soft tresses. Finally, turning his head this way and that to inspect his round ears. 

"Show me your teeth." 

Aragorn complied, patiently. 

"Now, stick out your tongue. Farther. Good." Satisfied, he rewarded his pupil with several minutes of deep kissing with lots of tongue play. Rough hands gripped his arms, "Keep the hands behind your head. I must check out the rest of you."

Dark hair grew on Aragorn's forearms and backs of his hands, chest and even longer hair grew under his arms. He ran his fingers through the curly chest hair, and let his hand follow the trail of Man-fur down his belly to halt just above his sex. Aragorn squirmed, and earned a scolding, "Hold still. I'm just getting to the good parts."

Legolas touched the hair there, too. It was the thickest, but made an interesting contrast to the soft skin of Aragorn's shaft. The foreskin was stretched down over the plump head, and he could tell from the fullness Aragorn was enjoying his inspection. 

Not hard enough, Legolas thought, as he dipped a finger into the jar. Scooping a little ointment into his hand, he rubbed his hands vigorously together to warm it. Legolas took the half hardened member gently between his slick palms and stroked it. 

Aragorn groaned.

"You have this jar, and it was gifted from someone, I imagine." He knew exactly who the someone was, as he figured Aragorn hadn't taken it from Elrond himself. He most likely had one of Elrond's sons get it for him. "Do you touch yourself, Aragorn?" 

"Of course, I do," Aragorn frowned like it was a silly question. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Just here?" Legolas said as he continued to work Aragorn's penis with his hands. With two fingers, he stroked the scrotum, "And here, perhaps?"

"Further, too."

Legolas looked up from his hands to meet the younger man's eyes and his brows drew together. Shifting the member to one hand, he trailed the fingers lower, under the very warm, heavy flesh of the scrotum. "Back here?" 

HIs finger barely brushed the anus and Aragorn's breath left him in a hiss, "Yes."

"What exactly do you do to yourself here," Legolas asked.

Aragorn freed one of his hands and reached under the bolster to pull out a long metal cylinder. He handed it to Legolas before tucking his hand back under his head. 

Legolas examined the fine Elven craftsmanship of the metalwork, grinning in delight. "I haven't seen one of these in at least fifty years. Where in the world did you get this? They don't make these anymore."

Aragorn bit his lip and gave one shake of his head, not willing to give up his accomplice, and Legolas respected that.

The Elf coated the artificial phallus with a thick coat of slippery salve, and used his free hand to coax Aragorn into bending his knees up and out of the way. "You can take your hands down, but only if you need to use them to hold your knees." 

Aragorn replied, "I'll keep them up here. I'm comfortable."

"As you wish." 

Legolas was probably far more gentle and careful than Aragorn was on himself with the artificial phallus. And he had the better angle with his first finger perfectly fitted in the open end. It was designed for training a partner in anal sex more than for self-pleasuring. He met some resistance, but he persisted and Aragorn took it much more smoothly than Legolas could have. "There. All the way in. May I move it, now?"

"Yes, Legolas, please."

He worked the object in and out of Aragorn's sensitive passage, feeling the thin shell warm to body temperature around his finger. He varied the depth and speed of the thrusts, enjoying his young partner's responsiveness to the sensations he created. "You've surprised me, again, young Dúnedain. Can you take something thicker than this I wonder?" 

"Don't know," Aragorn panted, "Never tried anything bigger than that... or my fingers."

"Oh, my friend," Legolas laughed, "I think I may have just fallen a little bit in love with you."

"If you keep it angled up I'm... Legolas, I won't be able to hold back..."

Legolas adjusted it, a momentary mercy, while he leaned up to take Aragorn's weeping erection into his mouth. 

Aragorn made a beautiful sound as he came from only a few heartbeats in Legolas' talented mouth. The seed was hot and salty on his tongue, a treat to be sure, and one that Legolas savored. 

His fingers still worked the phallus and soon his mouth was matching the tempo of the thrusts. It didn't escape his notice how Aragorn was lifting into his mouth and pushing down harder on his hand. 

Oh yes, Legolas was just a little bit in love with this Man. "Oh, to be inside you," he sighed, cheek rested on Aragorn's belly when he'd brought the younger man to full erection, again. 

"I want to try," Aragorn admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

Legolas was gentle when he removed the Elven wrought phallus. He cleaned Aragorn up with a cloth and warm water from a washstand in the corner of the room. He also cleaned the cylinder and handed it back to Aragorn. "Don't let Lord Elrond know you have one of those. He thinks you're an innocent."

"Legolas..."

"I don't want to hurt you, Estel."

"I trust you. More than anyone else." 

Sighing, Legolas resigned himself, but only because Aragorn's own preparations gave him hope. "I want you to lie on your side and try to relax." He positioned himself behind Aragorn, so his longer body fit around Aragorn's. It would be difficult to enter too deeply in this position, exactly why he chose it. 

Legolas pressed kisses along his stubbled jawline as he whispered instructions. When they were ready, his arm was a pillow for Aragorn's head and his hardness lay in the valley between slick buttocks. 

The whispers grew tender with awed encouragement as Aragorn took him at an infinity slow pace until they were joined. "Ah... burns," Aragorn breathed. 

Legolas placed a light kiss on his cheek, "Believe me, I know."

Pale blue eyes sought his, and Legolas' nipped his lower lip playfully. "I don't get taken very often, and I wish I'd had your foresight and done some preparation before I arrived in Imladris this morning..." 

Aragorn's mouth twitched at the corner as he fought not to smile at his friend's confession. Legolas pulled a face. "I'll be sore long past today, but asking for healing is admitting weakness. I won't hesitated to make Lord Elrond heal you, though, if I think you need it."

"I'm ready to try moving, now, please."

The Prince wrapped both of his arms protectively around his young lover and held him close as he moved out and then deeply in. Not ever having deflowered an innocent before this day, the tightness was akin to nothing he ever felt with a partner of either sex. 

There was the perfect amount of slickness and Aragorn rocked back onto him. If he didn't stop doing that... "Cease, Aragorn, have mercy. You're hotter than the fires of Mount Doom inside and I'm afraid we'll burst into flames!"

Aragorn huffed and ground his backside against Legolas wantonly until Legolas increased his pace. "What's the matter, Elf? Can't take the poor virgin Man? I thought Elves do this all the time? Or do they leave their pretty Princes out of it?" The taunting earned a light smack on his hip. 

"Careful, young one," Legolas admonished. "I've never been left out of anything, and I can prove it."

It was impossible not to accept the challenge and give everything he had to making Aragorn buck wildly with pleasure. He rolled them and lifted Aragorn to his knees without ever pulling completely out of him.

Time seemed to stretch and warp in a strange haze of frenzy and ecstasy. At some point, Legolas felt himself shatter and burn and shatter, again, harder if that was possible. Nothing existed but his Estel. His scent, the salt of his sweat on Legolas' tongue and always the nearly unbearable heat surrounding him where they were one flesh. 

If he died tomorrow, he would regret only not spending every second in Aragorn before his end came. 

 

Aragorn was sure at some point he'd blacked out, and possibly Legolas had, too. They were sprawled in the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs and golden hair. Something came back to him from what Legolas had said. 

"What?" Legolas groaned.

"Nothing."

"That look wasn't nothing; That look was something."

Aragorn pushed a stray lock of Legolas' hair away from his cheek, where it was tickling him. "I was just wondering if Lord Elrond was responsible for the Mithril... and your sore ass."

Legolas blinked once, very slowly, and then rolled over to face the other way with a huff, "Go to sleep, Aragorn. I'm exhausted. You should be, too. If you're not, I'll find someone to exhaust you... after our nap."

So, the question wasn't answered to Aragorn's satisfaction, but he did curl up behind the Elf and sleep for a while. 

As promised, they bathed and ate and Legolas dragged him down to one of the lower courtyards where music and dancing and flirting was going on. On the way, everyone smiled at Aragorn and a few hugged or kissed him. 

A few shared looks with Legolas. Those looks were cold and unfriendly, but for the most part everyone as happy to see the Prince of Mirkwood returned and with Aragorn in tow. 

"Who do you wish to seduce this Midsummer, Oh Future King of Gondor?" Legolas asked playfully, and at Aragorn's reluctance to speak he tutted, "Oh, come now, you've live here for an Age, surly there is one who makes you blush and stammer."

After much prodding and teasing and some crudeness, Aragorn admitted there was. Legolas grinned. "Good choice, she's lovely and as sweet as honey." He searched the crowded dance area for the Lady Alais and found her perched on the edge of the fountain strumming an instrument for the dancers. She stood as they approached her and set her instrument carefully aside. "Welcome back this Midsummer, Prince Legolas." She dipped her head and then turned her attention to him, "And a joyous first Midsummer to you, Estel." She treated him with the same respect she showed the Elven Prince. 

Legolas took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. "When I asked Estel who the most beautiful Lady in Imladris was, he named you, my Lady, and I wholeheartedly agreed. Young Estel and I will be crushed if you choose the dancers over our company today..." 

A smile lit up her face and Aragorn was impressed with Legolas' skill with compliments, and certain they made the right choice in her. Alais was quiet and gentle, and she wasn't married or even pledged to anyone. Aragorn thought that a terrible shame. Years ago, he learned not to question a solitary Elf. Too many times their stories told of great loves and even greater heartbreaks. He hoped that was not the case for her... 

"I'm honored, Prince." 

Aragorn touched his fingers to his forehead and bowed, "The honor is ours, beautiful lady." 

Legolas grinned at him, nodded his approval. Maybe Aragorn was going to survive this day, after all.


	4. Aragorn Meets Arwen, Legolas Gets Healed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was their first meeting like? Here is what I imagine. 
> 
> Warning for rimming, anal, oral

"Legolas, who is that?" Aragorn breathed. "I've never seen her around Rivendell before."

Legolas looked up from this bowl of stew, eyes scanning the clusters of people laughing and talking and eating in the fading light of the huge, cobblestoned courtyard as night finally approached in Imladris. "Who?"

"The woman with Elladan and Elrohir."

It didn't take Legolas' sharp eyes long to spot Elrond's tall, dark haired offspring coming down the path to where the sunset feast was being held. He smiled. Leave it to the twins to thwart their father's efforts to keep them far away from Imladris and Aragorn today. 

Arwen stepped out from behind her brothers, and his breath caught in his chest. "Oh, no." 

What would Elrond have to say about his daughter's return from Caras Galadhon on tonight of all nights? 

Aragorn's voice was full of awe, "She's very beautiful."

Legolas raised his eyebrows at his young friend as if he'd just stated he wanted to be an Orc. "She is beautiful, but if you want to live to twenty and six, my friend, you'll stop gawking at Lord Elrond's daughter as if she is the first female you've ever seen."

"That's Arwen? The Arwen everyone talks about?" Aragorn whispered.

"Yes, Aragorn, that is my daughter, Arwen Undomiel." Lord Elrond had appeared out of nowhere at Aragorn's shoulder, as if by magic, and it made Legolas wince, because he was reminded of the dark old legends when a name spoken aloud could summon the very thing you feared most. 

Lord Elrond could fool people into thinking he wasn't dangerous with his quiet, patient manner, but Legolas trained with him, sparred with him. He shuddered, suddenly glad he'd had the chance that very morning to tell Elrond he had no interest in Arwen for himself. 

Few men would brave a six and a half thousand year old Elven Lord as their wife's father, just as he didn't begrudge anyone for not wanting to marry King Thranduil's son. 

"I suppose it was time the two of you met." The words were pleasant enough, but his tone said he wasn't so sure. 

Aragorn slid off the his stool, smoothed his tunic with his palms and turned to Elrond, "Would you introduce us?" 

Legolas wanted to throttle him for being so young and completely naive. How could he not see the obvious danger signs right in front of him? He silently swore they were going to work on his expression reading skills... starting tomorrow.

"I will, of course. Come along." 

Legolas didn't move to join them and Elrond turned his head and skewered him with a look. "You, too, Prince Legolas, join us." There was no missing the commanding tone and he found his body obeying before his brain had a chance to object to being ordered about like a kitchen maid. 

The crowd formed around Arwen and the twins parted for their father. The dark haired woman threw herself into his arms. "Ada! When I saw the twins had come, they made me long for home so much I wept for hours from missing you. I hope you aren't angry I made them bring me home."

"Arwen..." he sighed into her hair as he held her tight. "How could I be angry when I'm so pleased to see you I can barely find words." He set her back on her feet and pressed a kiss to her pale forehead as if she were still a child. 

It was then that she noticed Aragorn. She smiled at him, and Legolas had to chuckle because the poor idiot Man looked like she'd hit him over the head with a tree branch, he was so stunned. 

Elrond noticed, too, and his grip on Aragorn's shoulder looked painful. "Arwen, I'd like you to meet Estel, now called Aragorn. I'm sure you've heard much about him from Galadriel and your brothers over the years."

"I'm honored to meet you, at last, Estel."

Aragorn winced at her choice to call him Estel, but recovered himself and touched his fingers to his forehead respectfully. "The honor is truly mine, Lady Arwen."

Legolas was mildly impressed with his friend's composure. Perhaps there was the stuff of Kings in him, after all. His expression was no longer moon-struck, but he didn't return her smile, either. 

"You've had a long journey... Why don't you rest and I'll have some refreshments sent to your rooms?" Elrond suggested.

"Father," Arwen chided. "It's Midsummer and the sun is nearly set. Everyone has surely abandoned their posts by now. I'm not hungry; I want to hear all the news..."

"Since when does the Prince of Mirkwood wear Mithril to Midsummer?" Elrohir interrupted her. 

All eyes turned to Legolas, first to his braids, then to the cord tied round his neck. He scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but Arwen stepped between him and her brother and rounded on Elrohir in his defense, "I don't see how it is a concern of yours, brother. Legolas always has his choice of the best lovers at Midsummer, and I notice he's never sought out your company."

Everyone was too stunned by Arwen's insult to speak, but she had more to say, as she turned to face Legolas. "I think your choosing to wear Mithril is an act of bravery. I hope you find partners worthy of you tonight, Prince Legolas." She caressed his cheek and pressed a kiss to his closed lips. 

There was an indrawn breath somewhere behind them and it made Legolas' smile turn into a smirk, because he was sure it was Aragorn. "I thank you, Arwen Undomiel. You are as fearsome as you are kind and beautiful." 

"I can be terribly fierce when someone, especially my brother, is acting like a fool."

Legolas bowed slightly, grinning, "Perhaps you can use your gift to help me protect Aragorn from the flocks of overenthusiastic admirers who are plaguing his first Midsummer festival?"

"Is this your first Midsummer?" She turned wide blue eyes on Aragorn, genuinely surprised. "Oh dear, I can imagine how overwhelming it must all be for you." Arwen reached out and took his hands in hers. "We won't let them pounce on you and rip you to shreds tonight. You have my vow."

The dark look on Elrond's face was aimed directly at him, and Legolas instantly regretted asking for Arwen's assistance. As Arwen tugged Aragorn past them, Legolas was drawn along by the tide of bodies and Elrond leaned over and whispered in his ear as he passed, "That was a mistake."

Aragorn caught Elrond's look, and asked in a hushed whisper a few minutes later, "Is he always like that when it comes to Arwen?"

Legolas laughed and patted his shoulder, "Yes. It could be worse, I guess. Lord Elrond is fair and reasonable in most of his dealings, and wants Arwen's happiness above all else. In that, she is very lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't met my father, yet," Legolas said, while thinking he hoped for Aragorn's sake he never did meet King Thranduil. 

"Legolas, your face... what were you thinking just, now?"

Legolas stopped walking and let the rest of the group pass them down the path under the rustling canopy of trees. He put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, "Ask me another time, just not today. Midsummer isn't about the people we've lost. It's a celebration of the people we have, here and now."

Aragorn nodded, and then he surprised Legolas with a kiss on the lips. When they parted, he said, "I needed to kiss that sad look off your face."

Legolas smiled. "You've succeeded. Now, we better catch up to the others or Arwen and her brothers won't be able to save us from the lusty hordes." They started to walk.

Walking backwards, Aragorn touched the Mithril at his throat playfully. "Is worrying about me keeping you from someone today?"

"There isn't anyone's company I want more than yours today, Estel," Legolas assured him. "Besides, who says I don't have plans for later?"

"Do you?"

"I have an invitation," Legolas stated. "I haven't decided if I'll accept it or not."

"Because you're hurting still." The two caught up with the others and Aragorn's comment, though it was little more than a whisper, turned the head of Lord Elrond. 

Legolas sighed, "I'm fine."

 

Arwen and the twins disappeared around another corner, this time with Aragorn in tow, but Elrond's hand on his shoulder kept Legolas from following. When they were out of earshot, he was roughly pushed up against the sun warmed stone wall and roughly kissed. Elrond's hand quested between Legolas' legs, stroking him intimately. "Arwen will see to Aragorn for a while. You and I need to talk." 

"I don't feel like talking, but I'm not in any sort of condition to..."

Lord Elrond nipped his lower lip. "You know I heard the discussion, so don't tell me you're fine. I'm not a fool." 

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the other man and hissed, "Have it your way. I'm in pain. I admit it." Instead of angry, or offended, Elrond smiled and caressed the line of Legolas' jaw with two fingers, "I was too eager to have you. I'm normally more considerate of my lovers. Let me show you I can be gentle." 

Legolas followed Elrond back to the room Elrond's steward, Lindir, had prepared for him. He undressed and stretched out on the bed without having to be told. 

Elrond's touch was as gentle as promised. Being healed took little time and gave Legolas immediate relief. He lingered between Legolas' thighs, after, cataloging his various scars and murmuring words too low for the Prince to hear. 

The sounds stopped abruptly as his cock was enveloped in the moist heat of a mouth. Strong hands held his hips to the bed, the older man controlling all the action himself. Having his movements restricted both frustrated and excited Legolas. He cried out in frustration when the mouth left his cock and gasped as lips and tongue trailed down to his scrotum. 

Elrond hummed his pleasure, then did something Legolas didn't expect; he lifted the younger man's thighs up over his shoulders and ran his tongue still lower, circling the tight opening. 

Legolas' head slammed back against the mattress, earning him a grunt of disapproval from Elrond and hands on the tops of his bare thighs to hold him in place as the Lord of Imladris used his mouth in the most obscene way Legolas could have imagined. 

"I want your come, young Prince. The faster you give it to me, the sooner I stop using my tongue here..." He gave the sensitive anus another lick. "Since you don't seem to know if you enjoy it or not."

Legolas tried to get free, but to no avail. Elrond chuckled at his failure, "I'm enjoying myself, by all means, take your time."

Just before he exploded, Elrond gripped the base of his penis and made it nearly impossible for Legolas to reach orgasm. He cursed the old warrior in both Elven languages for being a cock tease, and earned a series of stinging slaps on his buttocks. It was the tingle of that pain that pushed Legolas past the imposed stalemate and Elrond was there to take his cock as he came for what seemed like an eternity, made longer by the rhythmic suction. 

When he was completely spent and limp on the bed, Elrond licked his lips and gave Legolas one last slap on his thigh. "That was a small preview of what awaits you later."

"I won't survive a later," Legolas groaned. "This is my fourth orgasm!" 

Amused gray eyes regarded him, "Only four? You've been away too long. Save your last for me and I vow to make it worth it." Elrond untied the leather at the back of his neck and retied it like a circlet around Legolas' forehead. "You leave it up here for the rest of the night and we will see if you survive the attention this will attract."

It was clearly a challenge. A dare. 

"And if I don't want more attention tonight?"

"You know you do. And you will have it."


	5. In The Early Hours Of Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. More orgasms. Elves are so horny. I never planned for this to be a 12k story. Blame the damn Elves.

Aragorn yawned and stretched his neck on the padded bench where he and Legolas were resting and watching the embers of the bonfire flicker and die. His brain was buzzing with overstimulation like a child presented with too many gifts in a short span of time. 

Part of him was willing to admit Lord Elrond had judged his maturity accurately, because right now Aragorn himself didn't believe he could have celebrated like this even last year and not been changed by all the attention. 

Sweet, ethereal Arwen had kissed his brow lightly and gone off to bed a short time ago. The twins invited him to make last rounds of those still in search of bed sports before sunrise because, they pointed out, they started hours behind everyone else. Aragorn had no trouble turning them down in favor of Legolas' quiet company. 

"I'm not sure I can get back to my room... but I'm afraid of who I'll wake up with if I just sleep out here."

Legolas chuckled, "That dark eyed harpist is trying to get your attention, again."

"No more," Aragorn whimpered. He was beyond relieved when they stood and the other man ushered him to his room. Legolas helped him undress and followed him into his large, comfortable bed. 

They lay together as the sun prepared to rise. "Thank you, Legolas."

"For what?" The Elf sounded puzzled. 

Aragorn snuggled into him, arms wrapped tight around his chest. "For coming back this year and not leaving me on my own today. And for everything, really..."

Legolas pressed a kiss his temple. "It was my pleasure, my young friend." 

"Could we have sex, again? When it's not midsummer?" Aragorn asked, in a hushed whisper. "Don't think I can wait a whole year for sex now that I know how good it is..."

Legolas hugged him tighter. "Good? Is that all you have to say?" He pressed his lips to the shell of Aragorn's ear. "There isn't a power in Middle Earth capable of stopping us now that you are of age." Then, the Elf kissed him, slow and sweet. 

"Will you tell me, now, about why you looked so sad earlier?"

Sighing, Legolas relented and told Aragorn about Tauriel and the others he'd loved, and how he blamed his father for chasing them away or worse.

When he was finished, Aragorn stated, "I've always wanted to meet King Thranduil."

Legolas stared at him in disbelief, "Did you hear nothing I just told you? My father is dangerous. If you are smart, you will stay far away from him."

"He can't be all bad. He made you, and you're my closest friend." 

Legolas choked on the welling of wonder Aragorn brought out from deep inside him. "Go to sleep, Aragorn son of Arathorn. It's nearly dawn."

Aragorn released Legolas and didn't try to stop him when he slipped from his bed. "Go, please. Stop worrying about me. You've earned that invitation."

 

Legolas would rather have just slept the new day away wrapped around the young Dúnedain, but the intensity of what he felt terrified him. Outside the door to Aragorn's room, Legolas sank to his knees and a single tear slipped down his cheek. "I can't love him. He's young and mortal. Father... will... kill... him." 

Strong arms gathered Legolas up and held him. How they got from Aragorn's room to his own, the Prince didn't really remember. He and Elrond undressed each other, and fell onto Legolas' bed. 

Elrond broke the silence, "Will you tell me why you think my foster son could be in danger from King Thranduil."

"Because of me. Loving me is a death sentence. The last two times I felt something and they returned the sentiment, my Father had them reassigned to the most treacherous patrol routes in Mirkwood forest. Both men were eventually killed by Orcs. I mourned them, but I think my father was relieved, maybe even pleased. It has caused a rift to open between us in recent years." 

"I'm sorry." His sympathy was real and ran deep with the memories of his own losses. 

Then, Elrond offered Legolas a smile more like the baring of teeth of a predator, "Perhaps, Prince, you should present Thranduil with a lover who won't blindly obey his orders and isn't so easy to kill. What would he do, then?" 

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to see you fight over me."

Elrond's face lit up at the idea. "I haven't had a bloody fight with a worthy opponent in far too long. Thranduil probably longs for a taste, as well."

Legolas didn't doubt his father would enjoy crossing swords with someone of Elrond's skill. His Ada had always been bloodthirsty. "You're pretty evenly matched with a sword," he admitted, as one of the few who witnessed both warriors train and fight in battle. 

"Please, let it go," Legolas begged. "As much fun as you might find in it, I value your council and having a sanctuary here in Rivendell. And, I have no desire to be King of Mirkwood, if I can avoid it."

Elrond patted his shoulder affectionately, "I don't blame you. Is it only my council you value? I'm going to have to try harder this time, if that is the case." He pulled a pair of long silken strips of deep blue cloth, suspiciously like the ones fluttering in the breezes along the walkways, from a hidden pocket in his clothing and proceeded to expertly bind one around each of Legolas' wrists, then in turn, to the upper bedposts. 

What was he doing letting someone tie him down and have his way with him? Was this a good idea? Did he trust Elrond? And what about all the things he was feeling for Aragorn? "Is there something wrong with me? Why are Men so irresistible to our kind?"

"An excellent question, and one I have pondered, myself, being half-Elven. My personal belief is that Elfkind spend most of our very long lives isolated from other races, cloistered with our own, so Men are a novelty. Flawed, imperfect, and it's that imperfection that fascinates us. They make mistakes, take risks we would never dream of, and we are drawn to help them, to pick them up and dust them off when they fail. They are inherently fragile, more vulnerable. Their lives are fleeting things." He studied Legolas' face. "Do you love him?" 

"I think I do."

"How do you know?"

Legolas winced, eyes burning with tears he would not allow himself to shed, not yet. "Because it hurts already and we've barely begun. I want to protect him..."

"You are a wise man, Legolas. Answer me this: If I love him, as a father loves his child, and I know he is the one true love to my beloved Arwen, but also her death, is it wrong of me to want to keep them apart? How am I different from your own father who sends your lovers into certain death?"

Legolas was stunned by the candor of the question. "You're asking for my council?"

"I am," Elrond nodded. "I'm not infallible. I make mistakes just as easily as anyone else. You have the perspective of the child, and I the father. I'd like to know if you think what I've done is wrong."

"You've seen them together in a vision?"

"Yes, as has Galadriel, in her mirror."

Legolas was uncomfortable with people seeing into the future. He didn't want to know how he would die or when or where. "How will he be the death of her? Childbirth?"

"No. They will love and marry, make a family together, but when he dies of old age she will be lost without him and decide not to go on alone."

Legolas didn't want to think about Aragorn dying; he was so young, but death was inevitable. "I don't believe it. Arwen is too strong. I refuse to believe she would fade."

"She'll be mortal, then, with a mortal heart more easily crushed by grief." Elrond sighed, "Is it better to love a single short lifetime and die, or avoid love altogether?"

That was the ultimate question. How would Legolas deal with losing Aragorn himself when the Man's end came? If Elrond was truly asking his opinion... "Let them know love. Please. Maybe, if I were a father, I'd give you a different answer..." His voice faltered. 

"It is hard," Elrond confided, "but I will try."

Legolas shook himself out of his melancholy. "Well, you can be sure I'll be watching to make sure you don't toss him into the river."

"Ha. I've no doubt of that, young Prince." 

The mood lightened as Elrond stroked Legolas' cock to hardness with slick and warm hands. Legolas couldn't help but notice the scars on the other's arms and chest and Elrond caught him staring. 

"As you can see, there is a downside to having two half-elven parents. I heal as well as most, but the scars don't fade as completely as they do for a full blooded highborn like yourself."

"I like the scars," Legolas admitted. 

"Do you? Why?" Elrond asked, amused. 

Legolas leaned up and traced a long, thick scar along Elrond's forearm with his tongue. "Your scars are reminders that we can be hurt, or killed. We aren't invulnerable."

"True enough." The older man kissed him and then proceeded to straddle his hips, lining their bodies up. Before Legolas had time to think about what might be planned for him, Elrond sat on his cock, taking it inside him with a low rumble of pleasure. 

Legolas gasped, pulling at the restraints, surprised and caught off guard by the slick tightness he suddenly found around him. Words and thought failed him as Elrond proceeded to fuck himself on Legolas' cock with abandon. 

Lord Elrond must have liked what he saw on Legolas' face, because he gave a delighted laugh. "What's the matter?" His tone was full of smugness. "Not what you were expecting? I'm enjoying you very much."

The Prince cursed him, eyes squeezed tight. "You feel so..." The rest of his words were replaced with unintelligible moans as Elrond increased his pace. "Let me touch you." He continued to pull on the fabric bindings, but couldn't get free of the expertly tied knots. 

"No."

Frustrated, the captive Prince lifted his hips, meeting the downward motions of the older man, and making them both gasp from the depth of his penetration. Pure stubbornness kept Legolas from climaxing then and there. He rolled his hips and braced his feet flat on the bed to get better leverage, pounding up into the tight ass as hard and fast as he could manage. 

"Good. Yes, just like that," Elrond encouraged him. 

Legolas stopped and glared up into the laughing grey eyes, "Release me."

"That tone won't work with me, Prince," the Elf-Lord laughed.

"If you let me go, I promise you won't regret it."

"Perhaps," Elrond mused. "But you are beautiful like this. I've discovered I have a particular fondness for golden hair and lean muscular bodies." His hands caressed Legolas' chest and belly. "And you, Princeling, are very nearly perfect," he pronounced.

"When I get free, I vow I'm going to make you ache for days..."

That earned Legolas a raised eyebrow and a slow side up and down his shaft. "The threat almost worked, but I don't really believe you would truly be that rough. I will release one hand, as a concession, but we aren't changing positions just yet. I doubt I'll get such perfection offered to me a second time in the near future. Not with the awestruck way Aragorn looks at you, now."

Legolas whimpered, "He's like dragonfire inside..."

"All Men burn hot," Elrond laughed. "His body temperature runs higher than in the mixed or pureblood Elven lovers you are accustomed to. I might have warned you if I'd known he was your first." Elrond untied his right wrist and as soon as it was free Legolas was pulling him down for what turned into a series of long, greedy kisses while Elrond rocked on him. "I'm pleased he was your first full blooded Man. You both experienced something new today."

"I've never been tied to a bed by an Elf-lord before, either."

Elrond raise his eyebrows. "You should visit Caras Galadhon at Midsummer. I've heard tales told of Celeborn and his skill with binding lovers with bowstrings, though I can't confirm them. I think I'd like to see what a switch does to that smooth, unmarked skin of yours."

Legolas gaped at him in disbelief, because nobody had ever mentioned a switching before, not even his instructors when he'd certainly deserved one. "No, please... have you no mercy?" 

"You're even more appealing when you plead," Elrond sighed and reached up to untie his other hand. "But, as it is our first Midsummer together, I will show you mercy. Have your way with me." 

Legolas sighed when his cock was released, but seeing Elrond on his stomach waiting to be taken was a powerful feeling he would never forget. Thinking of his own discomfort earlier, Legolas was generous in reapplying the salve to his erection before keeping his vow and fucking Elrond into the mattress. 

His fist snaked under Elrond's belly and stroked his cock, but Legolas was the first to reach orgasm. He'd cried out, about to spill into the other man, when he was flipped onto his back and his cock swallowed. 

Elrond's fingers sliding along his shaft and his tongue licking the sensitive head combined to draw out Legolas' orgasm for an eternity. Only after every drop was greedily claimed, did Elrond release him, licking his lips and smirking. "Worth the years of waiting," he pronounced. "Now, it's my turn."

Legolas rolled onto his back and lifted his knees in open invitation. Elrond's fingers breached him, and he was truly surprised he felt nothing but pleasure. "You're an excellent healer."

"You aren't the first Midsummer partner of mine who has needed that ability. And I'll probably spend the entire of my mid-day healing half the asses in Imladris, since my sons are home."

Legolas pictured that and laughed, "I don't doubt it... Oh. Aaah, I'll have to be more prepared next year," Legolas breathed as Elrond traded his fingers for his weeping cock. 

"I'll be sure to remind you, if you forget," Elrond promised.

The End. Or is it?

Want me try another LOTR story? Give me a prompt, pairing, or your story idea in a comment, and I might choose to gift you with a story.


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